Embracing Life: Learning To Stop And Smell The Roses

Have you ever encountered the age-old adage, “Stop and smell the roses”? I remember hearing it in my youth, but its true meaning eluded me until I embarked on my journey of micro-dosing mushrooms

Since the age of 13, I shouldered the responsibilities of work and self-support. Year after year, my performance reviews painted a picture of an exemplary employee, driven by an unrelenting fear of job insecurity. Growing up, my childhood was far from idyllic, and relying solely on myself became ingrained as a survival instinct. The ability to provide for myself became paramount, shaping my worldview and priorities.

I thought I knew the challenges of motherhood, but nothing prepared me for the overwhelming emotional toll it exacted, nor the flood of childhood trauma it resurfaced. Being an older mom I had two children back to back all while maintaining a demanding job. Physically and emotionally drained, I struggled to find balance. Stop and smell the roses; I barely had time to brush my hair. The end of breastfeeding my youngest ushered in a new nightmare—cyclic vomiting syndrome (CVS), a monthly ordeal that landed me in the ER every quarter.

I constantly felt a weight on my shoulders of everything I was juggling and the things I was sure I was forgetting. I placed work above everything as it paid the bills and put food in our tummies which sometimes meant I was not a present parent or wife. Compounded by my struggle with OCD and a relentless aversion to clutter and disorder, I found myself perpetually on edge, impatient, and prone to bursts of anger. The relentless pressure to keep up with household chores and responsibilities left me feeling like there were never enough hours in the day for anything let alone to stop and smell the roses.

At work, I found myself grappling with challenges stemming from a new, younger male boss, amplifying my anxiety and deepening my fear of job insecurity. The once-thriving environment I cherished began to sour as I felt increasingly isolated and marginalized due to the dynamics of my workplace, exacerbated by policy changes following a corporate acquisition.

At home, the strain manifested in my short temper, often culminating in explosive outbursts—feet stomping, frustrated screams directed at the ceiling—as I struggled to keep up with the relentless demands of juggling multiple responsibilities. With two young children underfoot, spills and mishaps were a daily occurrence, adding to the mounting stress.

Feeling unsupported by my partner and lacking familial assistance, I grappled with an overwhelming sense of loneliness and burden. I felt the weight of the world pressing down on my shoulders. My children witnessing me at my lowest fills me with profound sadness even now as I reflect on those tumultuous times.

I did not realize it at the time but I was just surviving, I was not thriving and neither was my family. It seemed like every week, without fail, I would find myself grappling with emotional outbursts at home, often triggered by the relentless grip of my OCD. I can still vividly recall the day my husband told our children to not make mommy angry. The realization that my loved ones were tiptoeing around me, walking on eggshells, was a gut-wrenching blow. I regret I cannot go back in time and learn how to smell the roses sooner so I could enjoy the moments I lost with my family due to my anger.

For over four (4) agonizing years, I embarked on a seemingly endless cycle of doctor’s appointments in pursuit of relief from my cyclic vomiting syndrome (CVS). Each new medication offering little help and often bringing its own set of debilitating side effects. Faced with yet another recommendation for a new medication, I felt as though I had reached the end of my rope—hopeless, consumed by the looming thought of early death by a hereditary heart issue exasperated by the CVS.

Depression began to gnaw at my spirit, and then, my deepest fear materialized as I received the devastating news of losing my job of nine years in a sudden layoff. The blow was shattering, leaving me crushed, despondent, and spiraling further into the abyss of depression.

Faced with my health struggles and the strain it placed on our family, we made the difficult decision for me to take a break from the workforce and stay home with the kids for the summer. We hoped that relieving the pressure of a job might alleviate my cyclic vomiting syndrome (CVS), which had stubbornly resisted every medical intervention thus far. Unfortunately me not working caused more stress in our marriage and I continued to be tormented by monthly 24-hour vomiting episodes.

The final blow came when my husband and I found ourselves teetering on the brink of divorce. I suffer from PTSD, depression, anxiety, and OCD but had bad side effects from the medication the doctors had prescribed for these illnesses. Faced with the imminent collapse of our marriage, I decided to embark on a journey of healing, seeking solace in weekly counseling sessions. This is when I also found micro-dosing magic mushrooms and my perspective on life changed.

Initially, my quest for micro-dosing stemmed from a desperate need to tame the raging storms of anger and emotional volatility that were wreaking havoc on my family life. Within the first two weeks of embarking on this journey, subtle yet profound shifts began to unfold. I discovered a reservoir of patience within me that I hadn’t realized existed, and even noticed a remarkable reduction in cravings, such as my desire to vape—an unexpected but welcome side effect. I felt like the weight on my shoulders had lifted and I could take a full breath.

Following the Micro-dosing protocol outlined by Stamet’s, II experienced a compelling urge to dose even on the off days as the effects were so profound. I abstained from dosing on my off days and found that on my off days, I was able to process the changes and perceptions that were changing within me.

When I started micro-dosing, it was not clear to me how long you should micro-dose for. Around week 8, I found there were multiple days that I would forget to take my dose and figured this was the natural process. I now know that you should micro-dose for 4-8 weeks and then take a couple weeks break to recharge and regroup.

I am happy to say that my marriage is better than ever now and the seemingly devastating layoff from my job was a true blessing in disguise. I have been able to reconnect with my kids, and they no longer fear making mommy mad. In my husband’s words, I am the woman he met years ago before the stress of life built up.

Braving the winter weather, we went to the store for some flowers this week as I was gifted a nice glass vase. My children helped me pick out a beautiful bouquet that was on clearance for $10. Together, we enjoyed the variety of fragrances and savored the delicate blooms as an expression of nature’s beauty. It has now become a daily habit for me to pause, breathe, and appreciate the simple pleasures that life offers as the saying symbolizes, stop and smell the roses. A year ago, amid the chaos, I was too focused on productivity to acknowledge and enjoy moments of peaceful beauty.

I urge you to take time out of your busy life to appreciate the beauty around you, to enjoy the present moment, and to find joy in the little things. Stop and smell the roses.